Gwendolyn Takes a Wrong Turn
by PridakArbiter
Summary: Gwen Stacy just saved Miles Morales' world from being destroyed by Kingpin. She's attempting to get back home, the particle collider should have sent her back to her world. Instead, Gwen finds herself in a strange city called Brockton Bay.
1. Chapter 1

**I watched Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse today and it inspired me to write this today. I own neither Spiderman, Sony owns that, or Worm, John McCrae owns that. Thank you for reading.**

To be completely honest, I've never been caught playing hooky before. Despite all my, ahem, extra curricular activities, it was never really an issue before. I guess, I should explain a little?

I awoke on top of a run down industrial building in an area that was not an all where I should be. I was supposed to be back in New York, exactly where I had been when the particle collider first grabbed me. I panned my view around, I was still wearing my mask which I tore away.

No, this was not New York at all. I grimaced and swung down into the alley right next to my building. First in the order of things, was to find out where exactly I was. The skyline did not match New York or anywhere that I had been to before. It wasn't that it was somewhere in New York I was unfamiliar with because I had been literally everywhere, especially in the early days of getting my power. Those first few weeks testing my powers carried my all the way across the city and even most of the suburbs as well.

I landed in the classic three point landing, nobody was about though, so it didn't really matter what exactly I did, and the building wasn't very high either, barely two stories. I could have easily jumped it, since I had super strength and all, but I digress.I spotted a soiled newspaper and immediately scooped it up.

"The Brockton Bay Tribune, huh?" I smiled at my good fortune, hopefully this would give me some inkling where I was. I brushed some of my blonde bangs out of my eyes. As much as Miles proved himself in that last fight, I still haven't forgiven him for my hair. Boys and their sticky hands.

The first thing I noticed on the paper was the date, January 2011. What the frick! In reality I didn't even say frick, it was something else that my father would've been very disappointed I said. But I felt I deserved at least a little leeway, after all, most sane people didn't visit alternate worlds or potentially travel back in time.

After I got my breathing back under control, I began to realize that maybe I overreacted. Firstly, this newspaper might be old. I grimaced again, of course the odds of finding an intact newspaper from six, no seven years seemed a little absurd. Secondly, um, actually I couldn't think of a second point.

Then the metaphorical lightbulb went off over my head and I felt like facepalming. After a moment I gave into the urge, I was sooo stupid.

I fished my smartphone out of the little pouch in my suit that I kept it in and tried to unlock it. Of course the people that made these phones, Stark Industries, didn't really take into account people with supersuits. And by supersuits, I really meant super gloves. So fingerprint ID failed and I had to input the code.

A moment later another nail in the coffin confronted me, no signal. I controlled my breathing, it didn't mean anything, maybe I was in a place with no signal? Yeah, that could happen, there was plenty of places without reception. I forced down the tendril of creeping doubt that was even now stoking my anxiety.

I opened my phone's default map app, one made by Stark Industries, of course no signal from that either, since I wasn't even in an area that had reception. I closed my phone and slid it back into my pocket.

I raised my hand to leave when a thought occurred to me. Even if the newspaper was hilariously out of date, what if it wasn't? I picked it up off the ground and skimmed over the articles.

CORNELL BOMBER AT LARGE, worried, I skimmed the article and noted the salient facts. It seemed fairly small time, I might've missed it if it happened six years ago and then they caught this Bakuda shortly afterwards before she had a chance to explode any more people.

The next article was kind of what I was looking for, or more accurately what I hoped against all hope not to see. CANBERRA RESIDENTS BUILD WINDMILL, NEW SIMURGH PLOT? If this was true…I read the article, devouring the words ravenously. I had to stop and reread several times to make sure I hadn't made a mistake. If this was true…I was definitely not in my world.

I would've remembered seeing or hearing about a metahuman with the sheer destructive power mentioned here. This Simurgh completely destroyed the city, not physically, but through mind control. Furthermore, she's attacked many places, Lausanne, Switzerland being the first, in 2002 and I had never heard of her. Even if she had stopped attacking, people would be way more wary of angelic images than I remember.

I shook my head, and spoke resolutely, "I refuse to believe this is true."

Or at least I wanted to speak resolutely, but my voice cracked and wavered, and to my ears I sounded like a little girl on the edge of tears. Which given the way my eyes grew clouded and the tightness wound itself like a vice around my heart, seemed pretty likely.

I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and drew in a shuddery breath. I was a hero. No I was a HERO. I wouldn't just stop and wallow, I needed to be sure.

I dropped the newspaper, not even bothering to read more articles, I needed to know what was going on here, where I was, and what this all meant.

Webbing shot away from my arm, which I barely remembered raising, and then I was away, moving up a building and out of the grimy alley. The newspaper swirled in the draft I left behind my sudden departure.

I spotted a taller building, a three story tall one and immediately went for it. As always, my sense of timing, balance, and web spinning, was impeccable and within half a breath I was atop the building.

I replaced my mask and looked around, taking in the city, if it even could be called that. It was a harbor town, I spotted docks and ships. My gaze panned outwards and I blinked, what is that?

An oil rig rested in the middle of the bay, and around it floated what appeared to be forcefields or barring that, energy fields of some kind. All in all it didn't fit, it was a white building unmarred by the salt of the sea, which I could clearly smell from up here, and it seemed an order of magnitude more advanced than the entire rest of the city.

I frowned, beyond the techno oil rig was a tanker, a derelict tanker ship, it almost seemed to be blocking the main route into the harbor. I rubbed my head, why hadn't they moved it? It has evidently sat undisturbed for many years, if the amount of rust and decay was any indication. I quickly took in the rest of the city itself, I was in what looked like a commercial district, composed of short building and tall warehouses. Directly behind me was what appeared to be some kind of train yard. Residential building's eventually encroached upon the commercial district to my far right. Almost directly ahead was what looked like shops and actual stores. A few lone skyscrapers towered above everything else beyond the stores.

I looked down at myself and for the first time allowed myself to acknowledge the chill of winter. It was cold. And my suit was not particularly built for cold conditions. Furthermore, since I needed to find out where I was I would need to blend in, which meant I needed clothes.

Briefly, I considered looking in a dumpster, but you know I still had some standards, and the thought of dumpster diving sent goosebumps up my arms.  
"All right," I spoke to myself, "first things first, Gwen, you need a sweater, and then you need to find a book store, internet cafe, or something."

With those goals in mind I started off. My time in transit towards the shops proper allowed me to consider something else. Since arriving here, I had yet to feel any of the stutters associated with Miles' world. I felt a slight tingle of relief flow through me, perhaps I was in the right world after all? A girl can hope. I felt the beginnings of a real smile pull at the edges of my lips.

My spider sense blared and I ducked into a nearby alley, rapidly arresting my forward travel. I stilled for a moment, what was that? I looked around examining the nearby building but found nothing out of the ordinary, all was quiet, a few cars drove passed, but I got the idea that this area of town was not well traveled.  
After waiting several long moments I continued my journey with greater caution than before. Thankfully, for my continued stealth, by the time I started my travel again, the sun had began to set, casting long shadows between the buildings, making me just that more harder to see.

I slowed to a stop as I spotted a Goodwill store. I had never been in one before, but if I recalled correctly, they sold clothing, albeit majorly secondhand stuff.  
I waited for a moment across the street, on top of another building, I crossed into shops proper a few blocks back, and I was currently on top of a rather seedy looking Korean restaurant. My stomach growled.

Waiting a moment I considered, this would have to do. There was fair amount of traffic, various cars passing along this road, but the Goodwill seemed a little less than busy. I waited a few more moments, for the sun to drop a little more, and then I traveled across the street, my line carrying me across in a heartbeat. I landed and darted inside, after a moment's glance at the various security cameras.

I would be spotted on camera yes, but hopefully no body would have cause to check the recordings. I found what I wanted, a sweater that was almost new, sporting the words Captain's Hill College, within a couple minutes. Ordinarily I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something like this, if Mary Jane could see me now. I suppressed a smile at the pleasant thought.

It was when I headed towards the counters to pay that the first complication occurred. As I approached I spotted a man in grungy clothing, and wearing a tie around his face as if he thought it was a bandana speaking to an extremely pale faced cashier. I caught the end of their exchange.

"Thhhis is Merhcnat territory," The man slurred, "Assn SKidmark saysss you didna pay?"

The cashier tried to protest, "We already payed this-"

"You'rrre lying!" The man accused, reaching into his waistband, withdrawing a rusted pistol. Yeah, that was enough of this, my hand shot forward, a line extending from it and plucked the pistol right out of his very unsteady grip. It clattered to the ground.

BOOM!

It discharged, the guy didn't even put the safety on! I sped into action dodging below a fist he sent at me, it was clearly telegraphed, I almost didn't even need to move and swung into a upwards side kick into his armpit.

He tumbled backwards, eyes wide in shock towards a glass display case. Not on my watch, I thought, shooting a strand of webbing at the same time. It caught him in the chest right before he smashed into the display.

He appeared almost stupefied, and offered no real resistance for the three seconds it took to restrain him with more webbing. Huh, it seems my dad was right and alcohol really does slow reaction times down. Or maybe, I thought to myself with no small amount of pride, I was just that good.  
The cashier seemed really afraid, and I offered a few words to calm her down.

"Don't worry Ma'am, he's disabled," in more ways than one, I stifled a snort, "Can you call the police?"

She nodded shakily and reached for the phone, I stepped forward holding out the folded sweater, "Can I buy this?"

"Free, it's free," she gasped out, looking terrified. She looks really scared, I thought to myself, "I'll be off then, tell them it was your friendly neighborhood Spiderwoman that did this, will you?"

She just looked at me like a deer in the headlights. Or I mean how I imagined a deer in the headlights would look since I had never really been hunting in my life. Of course I had seen this look before, usually in burglars that I caught in the act. It wasn't very pleasant to see directed towards me by an innocent person. I left.

A while later I found what appeared to be a mall, if the massive parking lot, and similarly massive complex were any indication. Also, the sign right next to me, that said Brockton Heights Mall, played a small role in my brilliant deduction as well.

Under cover of darkness, I slipped off my mask and pulled back my costumes hood and then slipped the sweater on, at least my costume's bottom looked like it could be yoga pants or something. I left my pointe shoes on, they were distinctive, but it would look even more odd to wear no shoes.

With everything prepped I headed into the mall, a security guard at the door gave me a once over, and a really disproving look towards my hair. I tried to suppress a blush, it was nothing to be ashamed of.

The inside of the mall was brightly lit, and had quite a few people around, mainly teenagers like me. I stepped around a weird body massage seat, that looked a little too well used and consulted a very large map, it stretched up almost to the twenty foot ceiling and covered stores in the surrounding area as well as within the mall itself.

I spotted something I knew, Barnes & Noble, those aren't very common anymore. I swallowed, oriented myself on the map using a nearby lingerie store for reference and walked towards my destination.

I passed a pretty blonde and brunette who gave me a once over, before the blonde spoke to the brunette, "Ames, maybe you'd feel better if you did your hair like that?"

I passed them by quickly, why was my hair such an issue? I walked into the book store and paused, it's been a very long time since I was in a bookstore proper. Almost all my reading is done on my phone these days.

Speaking of phones, I fished mine out as I continued into the store, and started at the corner of the screen, still no signal. I pushed down my growing dread and focused.

"Excuse me," I asked a harried looking young women that was stocking the shelves with a book titled, _Rebecca Costa-Brown, Hero of the PRT_.  
"Yes?" she responded looking up at me.

"Where could I find the non-fic section?"

She pointed over her shoulder to the area right behind her, "From here all the way to Myrrdin's poster."

My brow furrowed, I spotted what looked like a poster of a wizard with a noir detective hat and coat complete with a staff that had glowing orange runes on it.

That poster was in the non fiction section?

"Thanks."

"Are you sure you don't want to look in the fiction section?" The women asked looking me over, "I think you'd find more interesting things there."

My face twitched, and I managed to keep from rolling my eyes, "I'm quite all right. I know what I'm looking for."


	2. Chapter 2

Either I was in a city run by a cult or I was actually in another world. The books available in the non-fiction section made that abundantly clear. Books with titles like, The Golden Man, International Relations and Endbringers, A Short History of the Chinese Union Imperial and others. I for one, most certainly had never heard of this, Scion, the Golden Man the book spoke of. Evidently he appeared in 1982 in front of an ocean liner and the world was changed.

Apparently he removed all nuclear weapons as well, which even if I had just, by some fluke, never heard of him, I would've heard about in the modern world. Instead I know I've heard about threat of nukes by various nations and supervillians.

Still, I pressed down the panic that threatened to consume me again, it was much harder this time, there was still one thing I needed to check. I kept The Golden Man since it appeared to be a more general history book, or at least it covered a lot of different things. It wasn't even really about this Scion, instead it was more about the era that he ushered in.

I spotted a map atlas, and opened it up, I really couldn't spend too much more time here, the women from earlier, who was replacing some stock on the shelves, has been shooting me suspicious glances. I mean, they're not unwarranted, I've read a little more than is really polite of various books. I don't actually know if this is the case but I would assume reading the books and then not buying is rather impolite in the physical book selling world.

I wouldn't know exactly though. Most of my reading is done on my phone through various book apps. I exhaled a little, not as if I had much time to read anything besides school books in the last couple years. The near Sisyphean task of protecting New York and defeating its rotating gallery of villains saw to that.

The atlas itself was unremarkable, I mean it was an atlas, it had maps, lines, and stuff when I opened it. I usually used GPS for navigation, but once when my parents visited Philadelphia I got to help navigate so it at least looked slightly familiar. I looked for a map of the entire United States first, some of Canada and Mexico was included as well, though I wondered what the legend saying Endbringer Exclusion Zone meant. Or what the morbidly cheerful letters that proclaimed, "with a new updated Newfoundland!" meant exactly.

I spotted New York right away and then blinked, at the little spot of gray in the middle of Manhattan, a dead zone? What did that mean? I flipped back to the front pages legend.

"Hey, are you going to buy something or not?" the women at the checkout counter berated me.

I flushed and ducked my head, "One moment!

I continued in a softer voice, "Then I'll buy something."

Customer service could really use some work here. If the employees were generally so ornery I was highly disinclined to return here, at all. I found my place again on the map and my eyes followed the coast down, I didn't spot any large cities with the name Brockton Bay which stood out on the nation map. I withdrew a little bundle of cash I kept along with my phone, while walking up to the counter to pay, for the second time tonight.

Idly a thought him me and I frowned before actually looking at my bills, if this was actually 2011…which I wasn't quite sold on yet, I needed to be a little careful with my money. There was a prominent date on each bill after all. Or really, as I looked at the bills, it really didn't seem that prominent, the years were in pretty small font, it would pass most basic inspection.

Still, better safe than sorry, I picked out my bills below 2011, which was not many, a fifty, a twenty, and a five. The women looked even more suspicious of me than before, I made a face at her and she glowered.

"Just these?" She asked, perfect picture of sarachine sweetness, and by that I mean she was visibly annoyed with me and wanted me gone.

"Yep," I replied with false brightness, popping the 'p'. I couldn't really bring myself to show my usual peppiness when I was potentially in some very dire circumstances. Impending death and possible atomic degeneration does that to you.

I left as soon as she handed me the change, I didn't really feel like staying in the mall any longer. The mall was much emptier on my way out, probably because most of the teenagers had curfews. I mean, even I had a curfew usually, I just snuck out of my fifth story window.

The guard gave me the same stink eye as before, his beady black eyes staring at me. Enforcer, was stenciled in white across the back of his security uniform, which I spotted upon my initial approach, perhaps it was local security company? Whatever, I shook my head while walking into the rotary door, I would leave that for later, when I knew what exactly I was supposed to do.

I spotted a payphone just outside the door, and wandered over to it. I never really had to use a payphone, by the time I started heroing, payphones were almost all gone from New York. Still, I'd see enough movies to know how to operate one, and of course I also knew my father's number.

A few fumbling moments later I was dialing home. I felt my anxiety rise as the phone continued to ring, and ring, and ring. By the time the phone finally replied, telling me that number had been disconnected, I was shaking where I stood. I curled my arms around myself for comfort. No, don't give into despair, I chastised myself, there was still one thing I needed to do. One last thing. I needed to be sure, I told myself, as if the words would add some steel to my spine and strength to my heart.

I walked away into the shadows, I spotted two men near one of the lampposts and as they focused on me, I felt my danger sense tingle. I hurried on, my nerves were already rattled enough, and I didn't need another fight right now. I needed to think. Once I left their sight I swung up and away, not bothering to replace my mask, the city was dark enough as it was. Almost nobody would be able to make out my face anyways. This city was not the glowing metropolis that New York was. In more ways than just physical.

Once I found a suitably tall building, one higher than three stories, with no real line of sight to the roof, and with a ledge that extended into the air, I sat down to examine the atlas in greater detail. I found a Brockton in Massachusetts quite quickly, which I discarded since it was inland. It took a lot longer to find another Brockton, and after about an hour of reading names in the bright light of my flashlight app I finally found a Brockton Bay in New Hampshire.

I sat back on my haunches to think, leaving the atlas open to the sky. All right, if I was in Brockton Bay, I couldn't easily get to New York by myself. I could just run and swing my way there but that would take a very long time. I pulled up some notes on my phone, let's see, a greyhound bus ride to New York from Boston costs about twenty five to thirty five dollars, so from here to New York can't be that much more, right?

I shivered, the air was getting colder. I stood up and looked over the edge of the building, all was still quiet.

 **Crack!**

The sharp report of a rifle filled the air, I spun and tried to pinpoint the direction the shot had come from, but I didn't hear any more shots. So it was a futile effort. I slumped down and buried my face in my hands, trying to gather strength. I needed to find some kind of shelter, or I would die out here in the cold. I was already shivering, my nose was running, and my finger and toes felt numb. I normally don't really have an issue with temperature but it's a bit colder here and I haven't been moving around much at all.

I rubbed my hands together, extended my arm again, and I was up and away. Now I just needed to find a place to sleep. Moments later I found something promising. A positively ancient looking church. I made my way over to one of the massive windows and taking care to apply to much pressure to the glass with my sticking power, I felt around for a seam.

There! I retrieved a small piece of wire I kept on myself for, ahem, a certain kind of emergency situation, cough, handcuffs, cough. I gently slid the wire under the latch and clicked part of the stained glass window open, I slipped inside the narrow opening, if I wasn't as lithe as I was I wouldn't have fit and probably have gotten myself stuck in a rather compromising position. As it was, I made it inside without issue and escaped the chill wind.

Inside was very dimly lit, a small red candle hung on a wall next to a pair of little doors set in the wall, the rest of the Church was silent as a grave. This suited me just fine I made my way over to one of the pews as quietly as I could and allowed a small smile to form on my face as I found the pews were cushioned. Yeah, I think everything will work out all right. I curled up on the pew, used the sweater as an ill fitting blanket and managed in fits and starts to sleep for the night.

I awoke with a start, half jumping in fright, my spider sense had not fired and I managed to bang my head on the pew in front of me with a dull thump.

"I'm sorry for waking you," An elderly voice spoke.

Rubbing my head I turned towards the voice, it was a priest, at least I'm pretty sure thats what the special white collar thing was supposed to mean.

"What time is it?" I mumbled sleepily, still waking up. Seriously, I felt like I just finally fell asleep and then suddenly, boom, awake again. I knew I had actually slept though, because sunlight streamed into the church from the stained glass windows.

I noticed now the artwork depicted on them, I spotted what I was fairly sure was Noah's Ark and the cross obviously, even someone that didn't really attend church, like my father and I still knew what those two were. Most of the others were foreign to me.

"A little past seven," the elderly priest replied, "I was just making sure everything was in order before the first service when I spotted you."

I nodded in acknowledgment, "I'm sorry, um, reverend?"

What was the correct term to use when addressing religious? "I just needed a place to stay the night."

"It's all right child, the church is open to everyone, if they just knock, after all it is not our house on this Earth but God's."

"Will you be staying for morning mass?"

I shook my head. The priest nodded apparently expecting as much, he knelt in the pew beside me, "At least will you say a prayer with me?"

"I guess," I replied, quite unsure, I don't pray very often, my father and I only go to Church on Christmas and Easter really.

Please God, I thought, deciding to humor the priest, help me to get home safe. Please.

After all he wasn't calling the police on me for trespassing, and that little prayer did make me feel a little better.

"God bless you wherever you go in life," The priest said to me as I stood to leave, "and know that God's house is always open to you."

In a nearby yellow pages I found the number for greyhound and after a few moments of wrestling the scant change I carried with me, basically just three quarters and a dime I got as change at the book store, I managed to call and inquire whether their was any buses leaving for New York.

I finally did let a real smile cross my face as I received their response. Their was one available that was leaving in about an hour, and would be going straight there, only stopping in Lowell, Massachusetts to refuel. I thanked the man on the other end and set out for the pickup location.

Along the way, my stomach growled and I kept a lookout for a cheap place to eat. I spied a truly nauseating place called Fugly Bob's, which looked and smelled like it sold grease instead of actual hamburgers. No thank you. That place just looked gross. Yuck. After I finally recovered from my sheer aversion to that particular fast food place I found a nice little yogurt shop, and got myself a small pastry, I dunno what it's exactly called, and some vanilla flavored yogurt with bran in it. It was pretty expensive though and I half wished I stopped at that greasy burger place instead.

I also managed to catch a little bit of news playing on a nearby TV, a superhero in New York, Legend apparently managed to drive off two supervillians, one of which controlled blood, and capture another, some guy that clones himself.

I arrived at the Greyhound bus with plenty of time to spare, payed the fee and claimed a seat in the far back, after all I hadn't peed since I arrived in this city and I really needed to go. I would be able to hold it till we got on the way, rather than make the whole thing awkward by going before we even got going.

The drive itself was mind numbingly boring. I wasn't able to play on my phone or read or do anything with my phone because it was already at only 20% battery, and I didn't have my charger with me. Nor did I pick up a charger in Miles world. I briefly considered looking around, or asking the other passengers whether they had a charger until I noticed that they weren't using smartphones at all.

Feeling very small all of a sudden I squished myself into my seat and drew my legs up to hug them to my chest. All the facts were adding up, this was probably not my world. They had books that referenced events I never heard off, the maps weren't even the same, my phone, which as the latest Starktech should work anywhere on the globe failed to find a signal. I clenched my fists and took deep breaths. In and out, in and out, in and out.

The bus arrived at the outskirts of New York city about 2:00 o'clock pm. I disembarked as soon as I could since I knew the rest of the way like the back of my hand. The bus driver seemed rather reluctant to let me get out so early, especially since technically we hadn't quite arrived at the intended destination, I was adamant though so he let me go. I made sure to thank him as I descended the steps out of the bus.

Once outside I walked along until the bus got out of sight and then I donned my costume. Time for a little webslinging! I laughed as I swung through the city, my how I had missed this being cooped up on that little bus. I just traveled randomly for a little while, immersing myself in the familiar smell and sight of my wonderful city.

I slowed to a stop over a small alley as I heard raised voice and then someone cry out in pain. I swung down into the alley but stopped just short of actually landing on the ground, instead I opted to cling to the wall.

"What kind of convention did you walk out of?" I snarked, looking over the alleyways contents. A long limbed woman, dressed in what almost looked like tribal clothing with oriental fastenings and actual bones and skull tied to it with strips of leather looked up at me. Yeah, her fashion sense was really lacking and the smell was overpowering. Blood and sweat and something else, almost sickly sweet.

I held a hand in front of my nose, "When did you last bathe?"

She glowered up at me, a ruined mask that looked almost like it was made of human skin stared back at me, I saw bloodshot and partially blood filled brown eyes lock on mine even through the fabric of my mask.

My spider sense screamed at me and I threw myself to the side, a line extending to the opposite building at the same time, swinging me away. Even so I was sent careening, for a moment before I regained control of my movement as an explosion detonated behind me. The woman, snarled at me, from where I just was, a truly animalistic sound, her hand dug into the brick of the alley as if it was styrofoam.

"I am the Butcher!" She growled, and my danger sense screamed again, I leapt to the side again, narrowly dodging the explosion before swinging back in and landing a hit on this Butcher.

Hey, I mean she attacked first! Or, I didn't land the hit, she twisted out of the way preternaturally, the movement looked wrong, the world seemed to twist almost, and my swing missed. I narrowly dodged a backhand swing from the Butcher who was suddenly up in my face, Grasping hooked fingers passing right in front of my face.

 **BOOM!**

I cartwheeled up the alleyway wall and out of the way of another explosion, "That all you can do?" I injected as much scorn into my voice as I could, "Look scary and explode prematurely?"

I was tested to my limit in the following seconds. She unleashed a rapid flurry of attacks, all of which strained my ability to dodge to its limit, I felt a slight tinge of fear. Normally, my danger sense seems almost prescient to an almost unfathomable degree but here it seemed to be just barely keeping up. I dodged another swipe and lashed out again, surprisingly this one connected with her face and knocked the Butcher on her ass.

She looked up at me with a look of stupefaction which quickly transformed into rage. Boom! Boom! Boom! She chain teleported towards me, and I spun gracefully out of the way of each explosion and subsequent strike she made until finally she stopped, evidentially realizing a change of tactics was needed.

Thankfully, the man she was threatening in the alley below had used her distraction wisely and disappeared, now I could focus on trying to take this Butcher down. I mean it was a pretty ominous name, not at all in the same category as names like Green Goblin, Sandman, and Venom. Butcher just sounded like, well, a butcher. I suddenly wondered whether the skulls on her chest were real.

"Those real?" I asked gesturing at the skulls or perhaps something else, if you know what I mean.

She breathed in a deep breath, managed to control the rage, and narrowed her eyes, reached down into the top of the building and pulled forth an enormous sword, the surface of the building flowing like a liquid and forming into a concrete sword. I was going to need to be careful here, one hit by concrete with that mass could knock the wind out of me, and I quite wanted to keep my skull. Thank you very much.

Boom! Another teleport and reality seemed to twist, this time even with my spider sense screaming at me I was unable to dodge, and it slammed into me with the force of a wrecking ball. I flew backwards, tried to fire a line but was unable before I smashed into the wall of another building and into the building.

I groaned, and attempted to clamber to my feet. **Boom!** She was right on top of me and I just barely managed to twist out of the way of her sword, which still managed to tear a gash in the side of my costume. My spider sense was blaring all the time now and I knew I needed to disengage as soon as I could. I'm unsure if I could beat this woman. If I had been a moment too slow, she would've skewered me right through the chest. I flung webbing at her face, which surprisingly managed to hit and she fell back for a moment while a clawed hand tore furrows down her face to pull away the webbing.

Does she not feel pain. I capitalized on her mistake shooting out more webbing towards her feet and legs and then grabbed the huge ass sword and heaved, cracking it down the middle. She snarled some more, absolutely feral at this point and boomed forward, I narrowly dodged the teleport and webbed her in the back of the leg. I leapt out of the window and swung myself away. Once I landed I fired another blast of webbing back and managed to hit the Butcher in her eyes, she fell back in the window with a scream of inarticulate rage.

I took that as my queue to get out of here. Swinging away and breaking line of sight around the building and taking off in the direction of boardwalk. I doubled back a few times to make sure I wasn't followed but there was no real indication that I was, and since my spider sense didn't warn me of any danger I decided to head home.

My apartment building did not at all look like I remembered, instead of the flower pots in the windows and cheery paint on the outside, there was a broken window at the bottom and the paint looked like it was peeling. It did not look like the nice pleasant neighborhood I lived in. I swallowed my fear and repeated to myself, I need to make sure.

I switched from my costume into my normal clothes, i.e. the sweater over my costume and approached the door to my apartment building, I hit the buzzer and asked for my father.

"Is George Stacy in?"

"I'm sorry miss, nobody by that name lives here."

I felt my heart plummet into my shoes. It was true then. I was on another world. I didn't want to consider it, but everything lined up. Furthermore, I had seen more instances of the date around, in the diner I had breakfast in and on the greyhound. I was both in another world and in the past, by about 7 years. My eyes swam with tears and I turned away, only barely checking for cameras or bystander before replacing my mask and swinging away, I needed time to think.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

In the end one of the things that really made the reality of my situation sink in was the world trade center. Both towers, standing tall, unmarred and unbroken. Here they apparently didn't have a tragedy on September 11, 2001. It was kind of amazing really, to see both towers standing, and kind of just hammered in the fact that as familiar as this was, it was not my New York.

Almost as if this was the tipping point I noticed more discrepancies, building where I remembered no buildings, a parking complex where a group of apartments should've been. A spider themed restaurant was missing as well, but I didn't miss that too much. It was just kind of weird to visit and dine in a restaurant themed after yourself, you know?

The act of swinging around the city, the rote action of it gave me a lot of time to think, and the slight concentration involved kept me from brooding too much. This was clearly not my New York, however they had villains here just the same as my New York back home. The question was, should I stay or should I go?

I had to admit that part of me, wanted to stay in New York, it was where I spent my whole life, but another part of me knew that I would be starting from scratch with reputation and public goodwill. It was kind of depressing really to be a nobody again, to know that I hadn't changed anyone's lives here for the better. Well, that wasn't quite true though, I helped the cashier in Brockton Bay when I arrived and I helped a man escape from that demented lady, the Butcher.

I spotted something interesting on my journey, slowing to a stop and swinging down I landed in front of a plaza that laid in front of something really strange. There were walls blocking off the rest of the city, and the nuclear trefoil rested prominently upon it every thirty feet or so. What was this? I walked closer, the walls were not the high, or that imposing, they seemed more to be there to keep people from accidentally crossing over to the other side of the city. Had some kind of nuclear disaster occurred here? A nuclear attack maybe? I continued on foot into the plaza, some oak saplings, grass, and bushes grew in recessed flower beds that checkerboarded the ground. In the middle stood a monument, it reminded me of the 9/11 memorial back home. A firefighter stood next to a kneeling policeman, with what looked like a National Guard soldier and a man in a simple domino mask.

Approaching closer I made out words in-scripted on the base of the large monument. _Here the best of Humanity gave their life in defense of New York against the evil of Behemoth. May their sacrifice be appreciated by all that see this monument._

I swallowed, Behemoth, one of the creatures, monsters really called an Endbringer, that the book _The Golden Man_ mentioned. Looking out at the dead city behind the wall, I saw how the name applied. Would I have to face this beast some day? Maybe this world did need my help after all.

I stepped around the monument and walked over to a wall, which was filled with names. I remember similar ones from my visits to various memorials, especially the ones I saw when I visited DC one summer with my father.

Respectfully, I read the various names, some of them appeared to be the name of superheroes, with names like Orange Falcon followed by an asterisk which apparently denoted, name unknown. I scanned the names of the heroes and then over the National Guard, they had all died defending their city from a great evil. I felt the urge to uncover my head in respect and settled for just tugging down my hood.

There was a lot of names, when my eye reached the names of the policemen that died trying to help evacuate people a horrible thought occurred to me and I began to scan the names in earnest. With growing horror I spotted a name that I somehow almost knew would be here. _Lt. George Stacy._

I must say the shock hit me for a moment like a freight train and I stumbled back and almost fell. No. It wasn't my father, I said to myself, and if my inner voice was a little desperate to convince myself I paid no mind. No, I breathed in, this was not my father. My father was safe in my home dimension, this was just someone else with the same name. Yes, that was it.

I needed to sit down, I kind of walked half stumbled over to a bench that was set up to view the names.

"I come here every day you know," A voice broke my inner thoughts. I turned and looked up at a man in a cape, floating a few inches off the ground. He was in a blue costume with white lines that looked like lightning across it, a simple blue domino mask covered his handsome features. And I mean he was rather dashing, roguish hair that moved slightly in the winter breeze, a chiseled jaw, and perfect teeth.

He flashed a smile at me, "I like to see it as a reminder, of all those that give everything they have to make the world a better place. A reason to constantly choose the good fight, even when it seems hard and hopeless."

I nodded, and found my voice, I was partially astounded that this guy managed to sneak up on me. However, this was probably just because I was so out of sorts dealing with the memorial and my earlier revelation.

"Hi," I said, extending a hand. He looked like a hero, and it never hurt being friendly, "I'm Spiderwoman."

"Legend," he offered, after a slight hesitation, one that I almost didn't catch, and that normal people would've been hard pressed to catch, reached out and shook my head.  
"I couldn't help but see some of your fight with the Butcher," he continued, "You conducted yourself extremely well, with minimal collateral damage and disengaged as soon as the civilian was safe. I must admit I am impressed."

Thank you," I replied, a little cautious. He saw me and didn't assist? Maybe he wasn't a hero? Of course if he was a villain this is literally the nicest sounding villain I've ever encountered. I mean his voice was very smooth and there was genuine emotion in his voice, it actually seemed like he was impressed.

"I wasn't there in person," he seemed to read something from the way he readjusted his stance, becoming more open and touching down, so he was actually standing on the ground and not just standing in air, "Several clips of the fight have already made their way online. When I spotted you over here, I decided to pop on down and congratulate you on a successful debut as a hero."

"Thank you," I repeated, a little awkwardly. One thing to be said about my time as Spiderwoman, I didn't need to interact much with people. I wasn't used to talking with adults, especially adult heroes. I mean I did on occasion interact with other heroes but it was on a very limited basis and I only really felt comfortable with people that I've known for an extended period of time.

Also, since my school interactions weren't really anything to write home about either, on a regular day I barely spoke to like 6 people, the members of my band and my father. Also, I certainly couldn't count fights, because my quip wars were generally one sided and offered little social experience.

"Your costume looks professionally done," Legend continued, "Unusual for a new hero, unless you're someone that's rebranding?"

Rebranding? Like what companies do after they make a blunder so bad they need to reinvent themselves?

"No, I'm not rebranding," I said, "I am new around here though," I racked my brain for something to say.

"I just decided to stop and see the memorial while I was here," I gestured to said memorial and his gaze followed my hand. He smiled in a sad way and nodded his head slowly.  
"As a new hero, you should know the statistics surrounding independent heroes?"

"No, I just got here," literally, I might add.

"Most independents are dead within three months," Legend said seriously, "In the Protectorate or the Wards, most heroes, barring extraordinary circumstances, live happy lives, backed by an extensive support network and intelligence."

Three months! I widened my eyes behind my mask, wow, those skulls might actually be real then. I'd been a hero for close to a year, so I'm not exactly inexperienced.

"I'm not a rookie," I denied, with a little bite of irritation, "It's just my first time here."

Legend arched a brow, I wasn't sure whether he believed me or not.

"Nevertheless," he continued, "The Butcher is out for blood, the Teeth have made several pushes into populated parts of the city since your altercation goaded the Butcher into action. You wouldn't have to worry about retaliation as part of the Protectorate."

"I work alone," I replied, I wasn't quite sure what the Protectorate was, I'd gathered that it was part of a government organization and much as I thought the world might need it I didn't really want to be part of a superpowered police force at this time.

Maybe someday, but not now. I heard an explosion a few blocks away, and then the tempo of fully automatic fire.

"I'm sorry," said Legend, who had already turned and was facing in that direction, "I need to go."

In a literal flash, he was gone. Well, I wasn't just going to sit around while some people shot up the middle of New York. I shot out a line and swung towards the gunshots.

A few moments later I happened across a war zone. Or at least the closest to a war zone I had ever seen. I heard a few more explosions in the distance but I focused on what was in front of me right that moment. I learned early on, I blinked away a sudden melancholy, that you couldn't save everyone, best just to focus on those you could.

It seemed a car had exploded, a car bomb maybe? Right in the middle of the street. Many civilians were cowering behind cover and I saw a few individuals, garbed in the same weird style as the Butcher screaming obscenities in the air and firing at random things. Legend was nowhere in sight.

I swung down from my momentary perch, my introspection and overlook having took less then a second. I lashed out with a strand of webbing, connecting to a raised AK-47 and pulled it into the air and out of one of the men's hands. They were clearly in the wrong here, terrifying civilians, disturbing the peace, and generally just being a hazard to society.  
The guy whose gun I grabbed screamed, "I hate spiders!" and turned to run.

"It's just some lady cape!" Another replied, catching a glimpse of me as I used a length go line to pull a civilian into cover. Bolstered by that assertion they leveled their guns towards me and opened fire. I of course, was already in motion, guided by my near infallible spider sense, I danced through their hail of fire.

"You even aim, bro?" I called out to them mockingly.

Thwip! A thug with an enormous dirty mustache lost his shotgun and was now hugging his new best friend, a lamppost.

Thwip! Another smacked himself in the face with his own gun, just before I pulled it away. He stared dumbly down at his hands.

"Missing something? Maybe a brain?"

I closed the distance, mindful of the civilians and attempted to keep their angle of fire into the large brick building behind me instead of the glass one to my right. I didn't want a stray bullet to kill someone after all.

Once I got within melee distance it was a quick cleanup, there rudimentary street fighting techniques were no match for super strength, spider sense, and webbing working in tandem. I proceeded to insure all of the thugs were secure and did so by acquainting them with the lampposts. I had time for one more quip before I rushed off towards another cacophony of sound I heard another couple blocks over.

"You all should go home and rethink your lives." One of them looked like he was actually considering it. The others looked at me with looks that bordered on anger and fear. Fear of me or fear of their probable boss, I didn't know.

I swung away. As I did, I heard a cheer behind me as one of the cowering civilians emerged from under cover. It buoyed my heart, and a few moments later my cheeks hurt from smiling. It was good to be a hero.

 **AN: Thanks everyone for reading. Let me know what you think of this chapter, next one should be out tomorrow or maybe tonight, depending on how fast I end up writing. I hope my characterization of Legend was all right and the fight scene made sense. Also, are the quips all right? They don't really come too naturally to me. I haven't really done much like any of these things in my other fics, mostly just lots of introspection and moping so this is a very nice change of pace.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

A few blocks over I spotted a rather strange sprawling building. It kind of looked like One Police Plaza, but that was over by Brooklyn Bridge. I didn't recognize this building at all but I did recognize the agents around it. The back of the their kevlar armor was emblazoned PRT, which I knew, this time not from the book but from watching the TV at the diner. This was the Parahuman Response Team.

In enormous gold letters on the side of the building were the words Queens Containment Facility, and PRT were swarming from its doors. I hung back a moment, trying to figure out what exactly was going on. My eyes opened in surprise as I spotted a man in golden knight armor stride out of the main door. He was followed closely behind by a woman and a massive purple, partially see through, glowing bear. Now that was weird.

I turned my attention to what the PRT and the two costumed people were looking at and almost wished I hadn't. A twisted, just wrong looking creature bounded up on top of a car, crushing it, a woman with a small child just managing to escape before they were crushed. The creature was followed by various people in various states of undress.

To be fair they were kind of dressed, if being dressed meant covered only in spikes, what I hoped was animal leather, and various pieces of bone, including spines. They were armed with assorted weaponry, mostly guns, but I spotted an axe or two and even a chainsaw. They seemed to be waiting for some kind of signal, and the PRT besides taking up defense positions seemed reluctant to engage right that moment. This was not at all like my New York.

The man in golden armor stepped forward, but did not leave the cover of the PRT agents, who covered in kevlar armor with reflective faceplates gave off a sense of wary purpose.

"Lay down your arms and surrender, members of the Teeth! Legend has already defeated the Butcher!" the golden armored guy, who I decided to just shorten to Goldie, claimed.

The woman crossed her arms across her chest, managing to send out a disapproving glare, and to be honest it was kind of intimidating, with the glory purple nimbus surrounding her and blurring her features. It was as if a ghostly bear was forming around the woman.

"You lie," the four legged creature rasped lowly, its voice was low enough that it shouldn't have carried, but just like the creature itself, its voice was wrong sounding and seemed to distort the air.

Almost at the same moment, my spider sense flared, I tried to move, but it kept on acting up, I swung across to another building and glanced behind me. The air was expanding behind me in hundreds of little clusters of fractals. Once when I was younger my mother bought me a little crystal growing set for Christmas. The little clusters expanded almost exactly like watching those crystals grow, except much much faster. And also, of course they also looked like miniature razor blades. I don't think I wanted to try to swing through that, I would be sushi-Gwen before I knew it. Even my superhuman toughness wouldn't stand up to razor blades if I was moving fast enough.

The plaza in front of building below, was also quickly filling with the little mini razor forcefields. The normal PRT troops swatted at some of them with armored gloves, shattering them, but more grew out of thin air. Goldie swung an enormous sword that kept extending through the air and also shattered a whole bunch.

The PRT was slowly being driven back, and I knew what I needed to do. Find out what was generating the forcefields. As the Teeth, at least that's what Goldie called them, and it was as apt a name as anything I could come up with, advanced, I carefully watched the area. Where were the fields coming from? I thought back to when they first appeared, near the top of the building, where I had been perched.

There! Inside one of the glass windows was what looked like three members of the teeth. Additionally, there was a bunch of screaming people inside the building. Actually, I couldn't tell if they all were screaming, or just the one I could see kind of looked like she was. Well, I thought to myself, here goes!

I shot out a line, which was immediately clipped by a razor forcefield, but that was all right since a moment after the first one I sent out another that managed to slip through the forcefields. Which proved one thing, their placement wasn't quite perfect. I grinned and jumped, my spider sense started blaring at me immediately, so I twisted and turned mid air, dodging a newly forming forcefield node. I caught the eye of the Teeth member in the window and they grabbed unto the other member next to them's arm. She backhanded the grabby one away and turned my way. I could see her eyes widen as I deftly and with perfect ballerina grace, weaved my way through what should've been certain death.

 **Crash!**

I smashed through the glass of the window all three were in front of, rolled and dodged another forcefield, this one pretty much just a blade conjured by the panicking teeth member or members. I twisted again, and fired a blast of webbing over my shoulder, hitting the action of the shotgun that the Teeth guy was trying to rack, it also got tangled up in his beard too which was a bonus.

"Who ordered a delivery of ass kicking to go?" I asked, flippantly.

The other guy, who was standing next to the woman charged with a machete in one hand and a Ka-Bar in the other. I jumped onto the wall behind me and up onto the ceiling, dodging his strike and another of the fractal forcefields. Evidentially, the controller who I was fairly sure was the woman, had trouble aiming these things, or was worried about her goons, which suited me just fine.

Thwip! Some webbing attached to the back of the machete guy's pants but what fragments of pants he was wearing hung a little low so it snagged his underpants instead. He howled as the webbing accidentally gave him a wedgie.

"Pro-tip, always remember to pull up your pants!"

I kicked him into the wall for good measure and he was out of the fight, I did what amounted to a ceiling cartwheel and clocked the forcefield generator right in the temple, she collapsed almost bonelessly. Which was pretty funny since she was covered in bones. She didn't move.

Oops, did I hit harder than I meant to? I checked for a pulse and then proceeded to web up both of them, sticking the woman outside so that she couldn't use the forcefields to free herself if she came too.

In the absence of the dangerous forcefields the PRT was rapidly gaining the upper ground, spurts of yellow foam issuing from strange flame-thrower like apparatuses. Goldie seemed to be wrapping up the fight with the weird four legged thing. I flicked my wrist and swung down to help. The creature roared and Goldie's sword stuttered, gaining multiple dimensions at once and the large bear that was also hounding the creature disappeared. Goldie appeared disoriented so I decided to help out.

 **Thwip!** A line hit the let of the four legged creature, anchoring it to the ground even as it tried to run. **Thwip! Thwip!** Two more lines got its other leg and one of the PRT agents used the opportunity to lather the thing in the yellow foam. Goldie seemed to recover and gave me a quick glance, "On behalf of the Protectorate," he stated in an extremely formal tone, "Thanks for the assist with Animos."

"Happy to help," I said, bouncing on one leg. Up close he really did look like a knight in shining armor. The PRT troopers eyed me warily and more than one fingered the trigger of their foam blasters. Huh, which ones were female and which ones were male? I couldn't tell.

"You guys look like stormtroopers," they just kind of stared blankly, "You know _Star Wars_?"

I'd never seen someone with a reflective mask and full body armor manage to look affronted before. At least that was the sense I got from the PRT guy in front of me.

"Hey," The woman with the now reformed purple bear, walked towards me, "Seriously though, thanks for the help, we would've been in a hard place, I assume you were the one to take out Vex?"

Vex?

"The forcefield one?"

"That's her," The bear lady said with clear distaste, "I'm sorry, my name is Ursa Aurora."

I pointed up to where I left the woman who was apparently Vex. Ursa Aurora's eyes widened is surprise.

"Uh, how strong is your, um, webbing?" She asked. Goldie just seemed to be scanning the area and/or possibly giving a report based of the sounds I could just barely hear from inside his helmet.

"Plenty strong," I grinned, "I'll fetch her and the two others up there if you like?"

"That'd be great, hun," she replied and I swiftly retrieved the three members of the Teeth.

Goldie seemed to wrap up whatever he was saying and he turned to me, extending a hand, "Greetings, my name is Chevalier, Legend said you were new to the city?"  
"That's right," I replied, grabbing his extended hand and shaking it.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to come down to the PRT to give a statement?"

I thought for a moment, bringing my hand up to my chin to adopt a suitably thoughtful pose. Ordinarily in New York the police kind of wanted to apprehend me, on account of being an out of control vigilante, no doubt goaded on by the editor-in-chief at the Daily Bugle J. Jonah Jameson. Of course, here I had the opportunity to have a less antagonistic relationship with law enforcement. Maybe it would give me the benefit of the doubt when…if…

I was evidently quiet too long, since Ursa Aurora interrupted my thoughts, "You don't need to come down to the station, we can do it here if you'd prefer."

"No need," I offered, deciding to go against my better judgement, "I'm always happy to help."

I got the feeling Ursa Aurora was smiling behind her bear mask, "We should have a van here momentarily for transport, Chevalier is going to stay here until Legend gets back, but I can accompany you."

The PRT van itself was actually a pretty tense ride, I could tell the two PRT guards really didn't know what to expect from me apparently if the way I could feel their eyes on me and the way they fondled their foam sprayers was any indication. Eww, actually that whole thought came out wrong. I blushed beneath my mask and resisted the urge to duck my head, they couldn't see my face anyways, they wouldn't be able to tell what I was thinking unless I was overt.

Ursa Aurora decided to break the frankly rather awkward silence, "So, what brings you to the Big Apple? Um, I mean if you aren't actually from here that is."

For a moment I almost replied that this was my home, but it wasn't really was it? It might look the same, be filled with some of the same people, and even smell the same, but it wasn't my New York.

"I needed closure," I responded finally, turning my head to look her in the eyes, which I could see through her bear mask were green, "I needed to see something for myself."

She nodded then, as if it was perfectly understandable.

"Will, you be staying here long? Or-?"

That was the question I supposed, New York had its own heroes. It didn't need me anymore. I suppose they could always need my help, but then why not some other city? I considered this, and exhaled loudly as another thing crossed my mind. There could be a reason I appeared in Brockton Bay. Perhaps, there was a device there like the particle collider that I could use to travel back to my home. I needed all the hope I could get.

"No," I said, making my decision, "I'll be heading to Brockton Bay."

"Oh!" Ursa Aurora said, taken by surprise, "Well, I suppose they need all the help they can get."

"Hmm?" I replied, my eyes narrowing, what exactly did that mean?

"I mean," She chuckled ruefully, and tried to rub the back of her head through the bear mask, "They don't really have enough heroes there, and have an actual nazi gang you know. Also! The Dragon of Kyushu is there! They say he drove off Leviathan before Kyushu sank, I've never seen him though, he was before I was a hero."  
I just nodded along as she talked about what she heard of Brockton Bay, I didn't want to give away that I wasn't from there though, so I stayed noncommittal in my responses to her questions, which she didn't really seem to notice given how eager she was to talk about Brockton Bay.

"-you see in Brockton Bay-oh, we're here," she finished speaking as the van stopped. I was partially relieved that she had to stop but also felt just a little homesick, I remembered the times with the Mary Janes where all us band girls had nights out and we, mostly the rest, including MJ, would chatter away, and I would listen.

"Right this way, Miss," the doors in the back of the van opened and admitted me into an underground carpark. I followed and was a little surprised at the sheer amount of vehicles, I even saw what might've been a tank, hidden away under a hastily arranged tarp. I just followed the PRT agents lead. I noticed that Ursa Aurora hadn't gotten out with me and I turned around to shoot her a look. She interpreted that as a question, I guess, since she shrugged and gave me the best, 'what can you do, duty calls,' expression I've received through body language alone.

It didn't really bother me that much so I just followed the PRT agents lead. The hallways were conspicuously absent of any government employees, a lot less busy than the police station I'd visit occasionally with my father and for other reasons which he didn't know about.

"Where is everyone, out for coffee?" I asked the trooper with a slight grin, he just grunted something that sounded like it might've been 'maybe.'

He led me to an open door into a conference room, it had a large round white table in the middle surrounded by high back chairs. It kind of looked like what I would expect of a meeting room if there was like a league of heroes or something like that, maybe the Avengers meeting room looked like this too?

I settled into one of the chairs, careful to choose one with its back into the corner of the room.

The trooper coughed, "We'll send someone to collect your statement in just a few moments."

OK. I guess. I stretched a little, it had been a long day and I probably needed a shower soon. What was this, almost two days without showering? I scratched my head and spun the chair in a circle a couple times, this was a really big chair. It had little wheels on the bottom so I moved it a little back so I could put my feet on the table, ah, yes, that was more like it. I stretched out my legs, it was nice to put my feet up and just stop and rest for a little bit. So much of my life lately was just go, go, go, save the city, fight the bad guys, save people, that it was nice to be able to sit back and know that the city wouldn't fall apart while I was getting a smoothie or something.

I resisted the urge to spin the chair again as a I finally heard foot steps outside. A harried looking man quickly entered the room, carrying a stack of papers, he paused when he saw me.

"Little young to be a superhero, aren't you?" Hey! I might be small but I'm fierce!

I responded stoically, "I'm just short."

He raised a brow and adjusted his glasses before sitting down, his enter air gave off a sure you are vibe. I bristled a little, but reminded myself that I had nothing to prove here, and if I got angry I'd just prove I was immature. Chagrined just a little I pulled my feet off the table and sat up straight in my seat.

"Do you need anything, water perhaps, before giving your statement?"

I almost said no, but suddenly realized how parched I really was, I hadn't had anything to drink since…this morning at breakfast? Wow, I licked my lips beneath my mask, they were really dry too.

"Water would be nice, please," I requested.

He nodded, got up, and left. After only a few moments he returned with a bottle of water in his had. Nuka brand water, that is new. Reminded me slightly of the apocalyptic game back home, Fallout, or something like that. Through the closing door I spotted a PRT trooper in full body armor standing at attention facing the door. I felt a little apprehension rise as I regarded my stay here in a slightly different light.

The man slid the bottle across the table towards me, letting it stop in the middle, within arms reach if I leaned and scooted the chair towards the table. No, I flicked my webbing at it, snagging it and pulling it to me before he could as much as blink. He still tensed at the sudden movement and I heard a chair scrape on the other side of the wall. Interesting, I thought, somehow I'm being watched without so much as one sided glass being visible to me.

I uncapped the bottle as he slipped into the chair that was directly across from me, he took a moment to adjust his tie and then his papers, patting his chest to find where his pen had disappeared too.

I pulled just the bottom part of my mask up, exposing my chin, mouth, and a strand of blonde hair which I tucked back under my mask. While he made some preliminary notes, probably date and time and stuff like that I drank the water. So sue me, it was free and I was thirsty.

"Please state your name for the record," he paused, "cape name."

Cape…name? What in the world did that mean? It was separate from a normal name, else he wouldn't have needed to clarify, he must mean my superhero name?

"Spider-Woman," I finally said. He nodded and made a note, quickly writing it in, "Hyphen in between spider and woman."

 **AN: As always thank you for reading! It's been brought to my attention that the newspaper thing about Canberra doesnt happen until February so I'll probably go back and change it to Madison even though it ruins the refrence I was trying to make. I think that makes the most sense for the timeline. I already have some really interesting ideas for Canberra now, so I think it'll all work out. I'm pretty sure I did better at the spider-quips this chapter, but let me know. Next chapter is a talk with the local PRT director, which I thought was Armstrong but it turns out it is somebody named Wilkins, go figure. Also, this chapter kind of gives the direction that the fic will be heading, back to good old Brockton Bay!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

The statement itself was easy enough to give, it was the questions after that became as issue. I immediately felt like they were searching for some kind of clue, something I wasn't exactly giving them.

"Could you restate the reason you decided to attack the Butcher?"

"Certainly," I replied, for like the third time, "She was threatening a man down in an alleyways and she was obviously a bad guy."

"You attacked with only that intention? To-" He glanced down at his notes, "To 'save' the civilian?"

"Yes."

"Were you aware of the Butcher's powers?"

"No."

He paused a moment and cocked his head as if he was listening to something, try as I might I couldn't pick up anything being said. However, I narrowed my eyes again behind my mask and leaned back some more, he was definitely taking instruction from someone.

"Were… are you aware of the Butcher's powers when you decided to engage?"

Hmm, I'm no longer sure if I'm giving a statement, this feels kind of like an interrogation.

"No. However, stepping in was the right thing to do."

He seemed to pause then and nodded, appearing a little disgruntled. Yeah, take that government goon, I did it just because it was the right thing to do.

"Please, explain again, how you located Vex."

"Well, I merely looked for where the forcefield things first popped in, easy to find her from there."

He shuffled papers around and shook his head slightly, glancing up at one of the walls briefly. He started to stack the papers and replaced his pen back into his front suit pocket.

"The Director would like to ask you some questions of her own, if you don't mind."

I snorted disbelievingly, I most certainly did mind, I have been cooped up here close to an hour and a half now and I am seriously disgruntled. Nevertheless, I was taught to be polite and so polite I would be.

"Sure thing," I spoke, finally giving into the urge to spin the seat around, when I was facing the agent again he just kind of glowered, "lead the way."

"Right this way," he spoke stiffly. He stood up and walked over to the door, holding it open for me. I stepped in front of him and almost into a PRT officer in full body armor right on the other side of the door.

"Follow me Miss." One officer said, they were wearing a modulator of some kind, I couldn't tell whether they were male or female.

They escorted me down a hallway and to a metal door, which kind of looked like a blast door that you would see at the airlock of the a spaceship in a sci-fi movie. The trooper reached out a hand and pressed it into a panel on the wall which flashed and then he intoned clearly.

"Red Rabbit in a White Coat."

I must admit I was kind of surprised at the level of security sophistication on this world, there was a lot of cameras inside, covering almost every angle, the corridors were labyrinthian, and then there was stuff like this, presumably voice and biometric identification.

With a groan and the sound of hydraulics moving, the door slid open, I spotted a nice desk inside, with an aging older woman, she had deep wrinkles on her face that made it look like she frowned a lot. Which of course she was doing right that moment as I walked in. I just spotted the reflection of the monitor in front of her reflected in her glasses, a woman dressed in black with a black visor over her face and what looked like a tower on her chest.

"Good evening," the woman said, "Take a seat."

I slipped into the seat in front of the desk as she pushed her monitor to the side, it folded up into the desk, without leaving a seam. The door slowly slid shut behind me, I noticed then that there was another costumed individual sitting in a chair to the side, he was wearing a blue and black costume, large blue lenses over his eyes and a blue cap, slightly squishy looking on his head. I knew there probably was a special name for a cap like that but I didn't know it.

"My name is Director Wilkins, regional director for the PRT New York," the woman, Director Wilkins, said with no preamble. She did not offer to shake my hand.

"Hi." I said. "My name is Spider-woman."

A look of distaste crossed her features at the mention of my name, "how juvenile," she murmured in what I think she thought would be a low enough tone to escape my hearing. No, I heard it all right, superhuman hearing for the win, and it colored my opinion with Director Wilkins appropriately. Really, she was the juvenile one for voicing her opinion of me, even though it was under her breath, after all how was she to know what powers I had?

"You've caused a lot of problems since you got here," Director Wilkins continued, but there was no real heat in her voice, a little bit of irritation and scorn, but she wasn't angry at me.

"You riled up the Butcher, who had been quiet for a couple weeks now and the mayor was hoping would be quiet for a while longer, you see this really hurts his reputation." She stated in a 'matter of fact' tone as if she was reading off a script.

"That wasn't my fault," I defended myself, "You'd want me to stand by as she threatened someone?"

The director looked like she bit into something sour, she sighed, and rubbed her face.

"No, it was the right choice, its just caused a lot of trouble for both the mayor and I, it should've been a quiet night, instead I'm here on a Sunday night, having my people clean up your mess."

I stretched my neck, causing it to pop. "This couldn't be the only reason you wanted to see me, can it? The guy before did a plenty good job of dissecting all my actions this afternoon."

She sighed again, this time in something close to frustration, "Legend asked for me to assist you if you needed any help."

She gave me a significant look, which I didn't know how to interpret. It kind of looked like she was trying to convey, 'trust me' but she had just blamed all her troubles tonight on me. It was more than a little irritating, especially since what was I supposed to do, not confront the Butcher? Not fight the Teeth? No way, I was a hero, and if I had the power to act and did nothing then I was no better than those that committed the action itself.

"I'd like a shower, I've been running around in this for close to two days."

The director's eyes sharpened then, she had apparently inferred something from that comment.

"Of course, anything else?"

I thought for a moment. Briefly I considered the idea of just spilling everything, that I was from an alternate world and I was lost and alone and needed help and I didn't know where to go and please! I crushed that train of thought, I couldn't trust these people, I had already probably given them enough rope to hang me if they wanted.

Especially, since all they needed to do was just spin the story, say I was working with the Butcher or that I distracted Legend or something like that. Not the first time my actions have been misconstrued by the government.

Furthermore, for all I knew dimensional travel was outlawed here and anyone that engaged in it was persona non grata. I really need access to the internet to do some research at the very least.

"A ride to Brockton Bay?"

The woman arched a brow and looked at the cape sitting in the chair next to the desk, he looked up from a magazine he was reading with a frown.

"Sure," he drawled in a slight midwestern accent, "just have somebody come find me when you need to leave, I'll just be sitting here and keeping granny company."

"Strider!" Wilkins admonished angrily, she closed her eyes and breathed out through her nose.

"Strider here is one of our best teleporters, he can drop you off in Brockton Bay anywhere you want to be."

"Thanks," I said, actually meaning it and with a hint of admiration directed at Strider. I actually don't think I've been teleported before. This should be fun!

"I'll have Corporal Jenkins show you to the facilities, then she'll escort you back here for Strider to pick you up."

"Thanks again," I said getting up to leave.

"No problemo," Strider replied, "I'll be here all night unless I need to bring old Mr. Goldiepants back to Philly early."

Mr. Goldiepants? Ah, he must mean Chevalier. Unless that was the actual name of a superhero. Which I guess I couldn't put it past someone, I mean I heard stranger, like Koala Commander, now he was weird.

I spent so much time lost in my head reminiscing about the horror of wet koalas that I only noticed that we had arrived at the showers when Corporal Jenkins grabbed my arm as I kept walking, "We're here."

"Thanks," I replied brightly, happy to change, "Is their any way I could get some clean clothes?"

She paused, before nodding, "I'll see what I can do."

I entered the room, it pretty much just had showers in it. I mean that's all, no sinks, no toilets, no nothing else. There was liquid soap dispensers in the shower's walls and I picked a stall.

Yet again I noted the long gash that the Butcher tore in my costume. Probably the only reason people hadn't said anything was because of the way it was hidden by my arm. Or, I thought with a rueful grin, maybe they were just too polite about it.

I considered the cut in the costume and the area beneath it, I had already healed up mostly, just a very thin scar which I knew would be gone by tomorrow. It really wasn't a deep cut, more like a scratch, it left only a little blood inside my costume. I spun and quickly glanced around the room, there was no cameras in sight, and if there was any cameras up they were too well hidden for me to find. I stripped out of the rest of my clothes and my spider sense didn't flare so I assumed I would be fine.

When I emerged from the shower I found my costume and stuff still where I left them and some clothes, a simple pair of jeans and a black turtleneck waiting for along with appropriate if slightly loose undergarments.

I quickly slipped those on and found on the bottom a domino mask, made of some kind of black plastic, it adhered snugly, slightly changing the contour of my face. I pulled it off and looked in the mirror, taking in my face without it. I spotted my bright blue eyes, a little puffy around the edges, as if I had been crying.

I grimaced, I guess I had cried a little while swinging through the city about two hours ago. A light dusting freckles were spotted across my cheeks and nose, and my blonde hair hung everywhere messily. I didn't wash it because I didn't think I had the time to dry it. I finally put the domino mask on and gathered up my stuff, I had the plastic shopping back from the bookstore yesterday which I just unfolded and used to carry my costume and other gear I couldn't slide into the pockets. I mean these jeans didn't have any real pockets for one and well…that's a girl's life.

I rapped on the door and opened it, spotting what might be Corporal Jenkins, she might've been replaced by somebody else while I showered.

"This way," the trooper who might be Jenkins said and started walking. I followed of course because I didn't want to get lost down here and die.

We entered into a wide room with a nice view of Gravesend Bay and the Lower Bay area.

Strider turned towards me as I entered and smiled, "I was wondering when you'd get here."

"Sorry if I'm late," I responded, always good to be polite to teleporters. He could just tell Wilkins he dropped me off in Brockton Bay and leave me in the Himalayas or Antartica or something like that.

"Ever teleport anybody to Antartica?" I asked, my mouth running before my brain caught up.

He honest to God blushed, "Yes, I did once, I brought him right back after a moment, still almost froze him to death, almost lost my contractor status for that one."

I giggled, "Well, please don't leave me in Antartica."

"Can do," he said, sweeping off his hat and giving a little bow, "Where would m'lady like to go?"

"Well," I hesitated, "Anyplace in Brocton Bay works actually."

He nodded and then spoke, "Mrs. Wilkins is pretty relieved that you'll be bothering Piggot now. I'm pretty surprised she didn't give you the whole 'join the protectorate' spiel. Or maybe in your case it should've been more of a 'join the wards' spiel."

Legend had kind of pushed earlier, suggesting that I join the Protectorate but I wasn't quite ready to become a state sponsored hero. I liked my independence. At this point I've heard the term 'wards' several times and I still don't really know what that is. A group of superpowered orphans?

"Hey, cheer up," Strider said, moving a little closer, "Don't worry, I'm sure your next meeting they'll be chomping at the bit to get you. Seriously, you put on a great showing with the Butcher and Vex, it put a lot of major heroes to shame."

"Thanks," I muttered, a little disheartened from where my thoughts went. Was that what I was now, an orphan?

"All right, hold onto your hats because this might be a little bumpy."

Flash! I felt a lurch, as if someone decided to grab my body and just shove it through a narrow tube. Then we were outside. In Brockton Bay apparently.

"That was fast…" I started to say before I noticed that Strider was gone. Well, I suppose it was just a job for him. I used my web shooters to swing down to the street. No, I didn't take them off while I showered, why would I leave myself defenseless like that? Then again, with super strength, speed, and agility, it's not like I would be defenseless at all.

I found a seedy looking motel and paid for a room, it was $15 a night so I was a little worried. Cuz, that was really cheap, but then again I was the amazing Spider-Woman. Nobody could really hurt me and the Butcher probably still thought I was in New York. Of course I made sure to ditch the mask before going into the motel, I wasn't going to give away that I was a superhuman that easily.

The guy at the counter looked at me a little cross eyed, but he didn't ask any questions and he did take my money, which was a plus. I knew I looked really young so I half expected him to ask me for some ID but he refrained. I would've had to leave if he did ask, since all I had was a learning permit from 2018.

The room itself was one of the worst I stayed in but at least there was no bugs, visible bugs that is. I didn't care about the huge daddy long-legs spider in one corner. Spiders didn't scare me. I didn't hear any mice or rats either so I decided this was probably a safe spot to sleep.

The next morning I woke early and was able to use the motels laundry machine to clean my costume. I was happy this thing could be cleaned with a regular laundry machine, since I didn't want to have to do it by hand, or try to trust that a cleaner wouldn't let slip that I was a superhero.

So it was about three hours after I woke up that I decided to go shopping. I found a cheap backpack in another thrift store, this one which I didn't have to fight my way out of. After I put all my stuff in that I decided to get something to eat, and that's where the police found me.

I was just sitting there out in the open, minding my own business, I'd just finished my breakfast, a McDonalds breakfast meal thing when I spotted the police officer walk by. The officer paused, turned, and looked at me before approaching rather briskly.

"Aren't you supposed to be in school?" She asked threateningly.

"No?" I tried, thinking fast. Oops, I forgot this was a school day, um, what do I say? Believe it or not but I've literally never been in this situation before. I mean I had nightmares about it, that I'd skip and be doing spider things and then the police show up and arrest me, but instead of jail its school. Of course that nightmare was a little more horrifying and not so pleasant, because usually in those nightmares Peter would be waiting.

"Do you have a note?" the officer continued.

My brain was only just picking up what was going on, "A note?"

The officers frown deepened, "come with me."

And that's how I ended up registered for a school in another dimension and how it was the first time I was caught playing hooky too.

 **AN: Well, here is the end of the prologue chapters. Tell me what you think. Sneak peak for next chapter, Gwen meets two important people, Taylor Hebert and Rune.**


	6. Chapter 6

**It's been a long time. Not sure if peopel even are interested in reading this anymore. Last chapter with the whole high school thing was heavily criticized and it took me a little while to admit it needed to be redone, so here that is, hopefully explaining the plot holes. From here I hope to return to being able to post chapters regularly. Thank you for still reading.**

Chapter 6:

And that's how I ended up at Winslow High School.

"I'm honestly not even a student here," I told the officer.

The officer looked at me skeptically as she opened the door of her squad car and let me out into the parking lot of Winslow High, or at least that was what I think the emblazoned words said on the concrete outcropping just in front of the main doors.

The whole building was dilapidated and run down, the name of the school was covered up in various graffiti even. I spotted red and black marks that looked like a gang sign, "E88". My cynical side immediatly pegged that one as coming from a Nazi, after all my excellent education, cough, cough, youtube videos, said that "88" stood for something dinstictly nazi.

The others were more nebulous and uncertain, I spotted a stylized red and green "ABB" and a not uniform at all "ABM". Of course, I actually only got a moment to appreciate this absolutely stunning art since the officer took my moment of distraction to pull me out of the car rather harshly and start striding towards the door.

I trailed behind, I didn't think it would be a good idea to just take off since for one the officer was rather fit and would probably notice something amiss if she was unable to run down a younger and shorter teenage girl. Second, I didn't want to give away what I looked like, a secret identity mattered a great deal to me, and I was rather reluctant to blow it by swinging away into the early morning light.

However, my desire to maintain a secret identity was already in jeopardy. I didn't exist here in this dimension, and since there was no way I could be here, then the officer would find out that I had no family shortly.

The officer led me into the building and it looked even worse on the inside if that was possible. Gang signs and graffiti and even a metal detector that had wires hanging from it and wasn't even being watched. The officer didn't even bother to go through the metal detector, nor wait for someone to come by and check my bag.

Instead, the officer just strode right by, ignoring all the ruin and headed for a hallway that branched off from the main dimly lit corridor. A little plaque at the junction proclaimed that it led to administration, which was evidently where we were headed.

We passed a secretary, who was involved with a little flip phone and didn't even look up until we were right in front of her. In fact the officer had to say, "Hello?"

"Hello, how can I help you today?" The secretary said, returning her gaze to her phone after a brief glance at us. I was honestly a little shocked at the blase attitude of the woman when confronted with a police officer. After growing up my whole life with an officer for a father and being taught to respect and look up to the police it was quite a foreign concept to me.

* * *

A little plaque in front of the Winslow school principal's desk had the name 'Blackwell' on it in a rather atrocious cursive font. I mean, really? Why couldn't she have an ordinary font, it had to be cursive? Who even uses cursive on important things like that these days?

The officer gestured to me with one hand, the other hand was firmly on my shoulder. Probably to keep me from bolting.

"She looks like one of yours," the officer said, tightening her grip on my shoulder.

"Hmm," Blackwell said, looking at me. I could see her eyes stopping at my hair and briefly flitting over my clothing.

"Well I don't remember every student," she started hesitantly, "She does look like most of the students here."

I could tell by the little sneer she appended to the end of that statement that she meant it as an insult. Hey, lady, it's not my fault that a spider-person's hand got stuck to my hair and I had to get a school nurse to remove it!

The officer blinked in response, "She's not in the system, not that I expected her to be, can you check your records?"

Blackwell's eyes darted to the side as if she was thinking of something, "Of course it won't be a problem, I'll have Eleanor look through the school's records, I'm sure she'll be there."

"Eleanor?" The officer asked skeptically.

"My secretary," Blackwell replied, before turning cold blue eyes towards me, "What's your name? And what year are you?"

"I'm Gwen Stacy," I said, still a little confused, "I'm not even from Brockton Bay, I go to school in New York!"

"Oh?" Blackwell said, sounding a little amused. Her tone seemed to indicate that something similar to what I was saying had happened before, "I wasn't aware that New York's spring break has started."

"Um," I replied, not expecting this turn in the conversation, "I'm not on spring break, I'm just taking time off to visit my, um, family."

"Your family? What's their phone number then?"

I just widened my eyes. I knew literally nobody. None of the phone numbers I had worked, and even if some random one did, there was an enormously high chance they wouldn't even know me since I was most likely from another dimension.

"Well, um, I lost it?" I tried. Blackwell just gave me a look. The police officer, who's hand was still on my shoulder, snorted in amusement.

"Like I haven't heard that before," Blackwell muttered under her breath, to low for the officer to pick it up, but well within the range of my superhuman hearing.

"And what school in New York do you go too?"

"Midtown High?" I decided to just be truthful about the High School I attended back in my universe, maybe someone with my name would be there.

"How generic…" Blackwell muttered, pulling her computer's keyboard towards her and typing away for a long moment. She paused, letting the silence linger for another moment before leaning back in her seat, "There is no such high school in New York, the only result I have here is for a school in Arizona. Arizona, by the way, is a state which definitely cannot be mistaken for New York."

"Eleanor!" Blackwell raised her voice to be audible to her secretary outside the office. I heard the sound of the secretary's chair being scooted back and then her heavy footsteps. The door creaked open and the secretary stuck her greying head in with a sigh, "Yes Amanda, what is it now? The Hebert girl again?"

"No, ahem," Blackwell stiffened a bit, before glaring at the secretary, "No, of course not! Can you check our files for a 'Gwen Stacy'? Officer Melbrose here found a truant she thinks is one of ours."

Blackwell turned back to look at the officer with beady eyes, "Also, Eleanor, can you show the good officer out?" She addressed the next part to officer Melbrose, "Based on her answers I'm certain we'll find her in our system, thank you for your assistance, officer."

Officer Melbrose nodded and lifted her hand from my shoulder, making to leave, before stopping, "Who's the Hebert girl? You have regular issues with one of your students?"

"Yes, yes," Blackwell said dismissively, "She's a real troublemaker, false accusations and one of the worse students we've ever had, a real piece of work."

Officer Melbrose frowned thoughtfully for a moment, before nodding and turning away, following the secretary out of the office.

"I really am from New York!" I protested again to Blackwell.

"Maybe you are," she shrugged, "What are your parent's numbers, really? I can give them a call and try to straighten things out, tell them where you are for one."

My eyes darted around the room, trying to think of ways to answer the question. Blackwell frowned, watching me for a moment, "you have any ID then?"

My mind flashed to my New York ID, but I immediately disregarded that idea, that would probably be one of the fastest ways to out myself as a dimensional traveler. I could take that chance. I could hope she wasn't familiar with what New York's IDs were supposed to look like. However, if she was she would know it was a fake right away, and then she'd start asking questions or have me arrested for having a fake ID, or something like that.

I really didn't know the penalty for using a fake ID, my father always made it seem like a really serious crime, just a little worse than counterfeiting. I had suspicions he just didn't want me trying to sneak into bars but I had no way to prove that and I hadn't really asked around to figure out for sure.

Blackwell snorted, " I thought not, you're actually a runaway, aren't you?"

"I'm not!" I defended myself vehemently, before stopping to actually think the whole thing through. I needed to stick around Brockton Bay, at least in the short term to try and figure out why I got spit into this world. I couldn't really stick in costume for who knows how long I would be stuck here. I needed a civilian identity that wouldn't be stuck on the streets or picked up by truant officers.

As I saw it, this could be the first step to establishing an actual identity. Yes, they'd find it extremely strange that there was no record of me, but this world was much less stable, maybe they would excuse gaps in documents.

I sighed, adopting almost a defeated air, "All right, you got me."

Blackwell's brows furrowed, she squinted at me, probably trying to figure out what had just happened in my head.

"I am from New York, it's just after Behemoth's attack there wasn't a lot of record-keeping. My parents both died when I was a baby," A stab of grief went through me, both reminding me of the death of my mother, and of the absence of my father. It made my entire presentation more authentic, so despite the pain, I was thankful.

Blackwell rocked back in her seat as if she was slapped, "Well, um," she said, searching for the right words, "I'm sorry? I could see how that could be an issue."

Her eyes narrowed, "That still doesn't explain why you're here in Brockton Bay? Is your adoptive family here?"

"No," I replied, making sure to seem slightly fearful, "I ran away from them years ago, I don't want to go back to them!"

Blackwell rubbed her face, looking for all the world that things didn't have to be so complicated, "I'll call CPS, see what they know."

Eleanor chose that moment to stick her head back into the office, "Amanda, we ain't got any students named Gwen Stacy, unless her files in 'that' filing cabinet."

Blackwell fixed me with a piercing glare while she addressed me, "Well Ms. Stacy, while I figure out what exactly the school district is going to do with you, and who I need to contact to clear things up you can join some of the morning classes."

Eleanor looked confused, "Amanda, she's not…"

"I'm well aware. I'm also aware that the more students we have from disadvantaged homes the more money we get."

Eleanor covered her mouth, covering her heavily wrinkled face, "Should you be saying this in front of?" She gestured toward me.

"Not like it makes a difference, brats always make more messes for me, take her to one of the classes, like Quinlan's. Never like his ramblings about that stupid mini-bar."

She continued under her breath in exasperation, so low that I almost couldn't hear, "a mini-bar in the teacher's lounge, how absurd!"

The principal's secretary grabbed my arm, pulling me roughly from Blackwell's office, "I hope you appreciate this charity!"

"I don't," I answered truthfully. Honestly, this whole thing was just so weird. Forcefully conscripted into a school! What was this world even coming too?


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

I had a class schedule apparently. Math, then History, followed by Biology and 'Social Science'. English and Music already happened earlier this morning so I didn't need to attend them. Furthermore, since I wasn't very keen on returning _ever_ after today, I didn't really see the need to memorize those class's locations.

"This book's pages are stuck together with gum," I pointed out looking at the slimy mess. It was really bad, I don't actually think I could open up the pages with the way the gum was stuck like that.

The principal's secretary frowned and snatched it back, looking it over for a moment before grimacing and grabbing me another copy of _History of Capes: Scion to the End of the Golden Age_. Thankfully without the gum, instead, someone had scribbled hearts all around Legend's face on the cover and given him hearts for eyes. I could only stare at the vandalized book a little shocked. Were all this school's books similarly desecrated?

The secretary tossed me another book, this one was new, _Norman's Math: Algebra II_ , or something like that. That was in turn followed by an English book, a Bio book, and a thin little book of music.

"I don't have a musical instrument, why am I in music?"

"Hush, dear," the secretary scowled at me, "get to your classes before you're late."

I would've thrown up my hands in defeat but they were full of books. I didn't have a backpack on me obviously.

Did I have a locker? The last school I snuck into gave all the students lockers. Back when I went to school in my home dimension I had a locker too. Also a backpack, but that was a different issue. Did they expect me to carry these around everywhere?

"Do I have a locker?" I decided to ask, halting my half-turn away.

"Of course," the secretary glared as if she had completely forgotten that I had just gotten here and had absolutely no idea what was going on. Story of my life really. Ever since that stupid spider bit me and gave me powers. The story of Gwen Stacy, girl bitten by radioactive/genetically mutated monster spider. Who never has any idea what was going on.

I mean that wasn't quite true. Usually, I had some idea, unless that moron in the red and black speedo was around, then I still had no idea what was going on and had to piece together everything from a mixture of nonsense and innuendo.

The secretary handed me a slip of paper with a combination and a number. The combination was a number as well, but that wasn't important.

I decided to just raise an eyebrow and stalk away. She snorted behind me, and I spotted her hand make a beeline to the WASD keys on her computer, the other hand went to the spacebar. Yeah, real competent working here. It was a wonder the whole place hadn't collapsed into _Lord of the Flies_ or something with such incompetence at the head of an institution of lower learning. The bell rang a moment later and I heard the bustle of voices, obviously, that was the way I headed.

"Hey, you!" I spoke over my pile of books at a small blonde with a really weird expression on her face, like she was trying to be cute but just looked kind of constipated really. The pink blouse she was wearing looked like it was for a younger girl too and didn't really make any fashionable sense. It looked like she couldn't decide between portraying herself younger than she was or trying to appeal to male fantasies somehow. She was a real mess.

"Me?" She asked, gesturing with one finger back at herself. She cast a shaky glance towards a tall black haired girl hurrying away with a tattered backpack.

"Yeah," I replied, raising one eyebrow. Her eyes darted over my body, the less than perfect looking clothes and then settled on my hair.

"Your hair-" she started.

"Shut it!" I replied. Seriously, with the hair! Just stop it!

"Where are the lockers?!" I interrupted again as she just seemed to stare at me. Other people in the hall seemed to give me kind of a wide berth. I saw several Asian looking kids glance at the side of my head and at the piercing just above my eye and give me a nasty look. One tightened his red and green scarf and hurried away.

Boys wearing scarfs. Never saw that outside of a college really. How odd.

"Uh," the girl I was originally talking to finally got over her surprise and started to respond before she was rudely interrupted. This time by a girl in a leather jacket.

"I'll show her the lockers," the new girl, another blonde, but this one in a black leather coat shot a death glare at the original girl which caused her to shake her head, glance around widely and then rush off to a stairwell.

"Hey," leather jacket girl, who was wearing stylized red number eight earrings held out a hand. I was tempted to ask what the heck the significance of two red eights was. It was not nearly normal to wear numbers as jewelry and they definitely didn't fit with the rest of her ensemble, especially not the orange shirt under her leather jacket.

"I'm Cassie Herren, nice to meetcha," she glanced me over, hummed a moment and then continued, "You looking for the lockers? What for?"

"I was picked up for truancy," I explained a little self consciously, "They forced me to come here."

The girl snorted, her lips twitched, and she started laughing. It continued for a long moment and she took another look at me and started off again. I felt a slight frown grow on my face.

"Really?" She asked, getting her amusement under control.

"Yes," I bit out, clenching one of my fists under my books.

"You can't make that up," she snorted again," Didn't even know the police cared about that."

"Apparently they do," I growled, getting a little annoyed. I didn't have endless time. I forced myself to relax slightly a moment later with a mental admonition. Despite what had been grained into me throughout my time in school, it didn't matter if I was late if I was never coming back.

"Right, this way," Cassie snorted again, the corners of her lips peeling up, "Truancy, heh."

I followed behind her, taking in all the reactions around me. Both males and females in red and black and sometimes normal clothes seemed to give 'Cassie Herren' and by approximation, me, the right of way. Conversely, the Asian youth, in red and green seemed to glower but were otherwise inactive. One spotted my attention and flashed what I suspected was either a knife or something else metallic. A real tough crowd here. What the heck was wrong with this school.

I heard snippets of conversations around me, "Did you hear about the locker?"

"She came back, I saw her in math."

"You see the fight with Lung and Leet's Cyborg Knight?"

"The new Tomb Raider game looks great, Tomb Raider fights Leviathan!"

All very interesting, more so the first snippets I was hearing, considering that was where I was currently heading.

"What happened with the lockers?"

Cassie shot me a glance, "Some girl, a real weirdo, locked herself in one along with a bunch of garbage. Surprised she didn't die in there."

I blanched, "Garbage?"

"Yeah, from the girl's restroom, nasty stuff, the hallway reeked for days. They should've charged her with vandalism or something."

"What?" I exclaimed in disgust. This place was a real hellhole. Not to mention it was full of crazies apparently.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

I'm kind of embarrassed to admit that I didn't actually manage to make the connection between Cassie's earrings and the gang 'E88' until I literally saw the symbol graffitied on a locker we were walking by.

I didn't immediately accuse her of nazism, even though part of me thought maybe I really should. She had seemed nice, if a little unreliable, based on the locker story. Only a real loony would lock themselves in their own locker, and I was pretty sure that level of craziness meant that they would either be in an insane asylum or a psych ward. Definitely not just recently returned to school level of craziness.

The only real possibility was that someone had locked her in. I had heard about pranks like that before, the locker part, not the trash filled part. Well, actually, I had heard about that as well, but never both at once. That was another level of petty cruelty, which I kind of half-hoped was false. It didn't speak well of humanity that literal children, especially considering I was the same age, were engaging in such acts as a prank.

Then again, Youtube had plenty of really cruel pranks on it, even by high-schoolers, so I guess it was understandable.

"What's your locker number?" Cassie asked, oblivious to my introspection.

"One thousand and three," I replied a touch frostily. The agitation of the Asian students made way more sense now. What was more concerning was the deference shown by the clearly nazi wannabee gang members. That implied that Cassie held some position of respect or perhaps held an elevated position in the gang's high school chapter, and wasn't that a weird thought? Gangs with high school chapters.

Cassie didn't seem to notice my new found hostility, "The thousands," she nodded sagely, "They're putting ya right next to the track team girls, my condolences."

"What?" I asked, just a little confused. I didn't know of any school that divided up lockers by extracurricular activities, "They get their own locker section?"

"Yup," Cassie replied, then she pointed down the hallway, "Down that way a bit, there's your locker."

"Thanks for the help," I responded begrudgingly.

Cassie frowned and glanced at me then, "What's got your panties all twisted?"

I bristled, "Well, you see, I just realized that you're a nazi! And I don't like nazis!"

Cassie snorted, "Took you all this time? You even from Brockton Bay?"

Her eyes flickered over my body, resting on my hair for a moment before I responded, "I'm from New York!"

"Why ya here then?" She asked before something wrong glittered behind her eyes, "You're not a lesbian are you?"

"No!" I protested, reeling a little from the accusation. I wasn't a lesbian at all, and even if I was telling the local nazi cheerleader about it was a dangerous move. One that I was not going to make even if I was arguably close to bulletproof and instinctually able to dodge most attacks.

"Have you ever kissed a boy?" She growled, the hard light in her eyes not subsiding, she pushed against my shoulder. I could've resisted the hard shove, I was more than strong enough to hold my ground. More than strong enough to actually bodily throw her down the hall. However, that would've blown my cover as a mild-mannered, albeit nazi-hating, schoolgirl. Nevermind the fact that the nazi-hating wasn't a cover.

"Yes, of course, I have!" My mind flickered to Miles, and I added, "And he was black!"

Cassie actually physically recoiled, letting go of my shoulder, as if she was a vampire and I had just shoved a crucifix in her face. Then she hissed, which didn't really alleviate the comparison I made between her and a vampire.

"You're a, you're a race traitor!" She hissed, trying to push against my shoulder again. This time I allowed myself to narrowly dodge, her hand collided with the locker behind me, she pulled her hand back and the locker door groaned, pulling slightly towards her hand for a split second.

Interesting, I thought to myself, she's got powers. Sticky hands? Lockerkinesis? Telekinesis? That's also when I got to think over what exactly I had actually said in response to her lesbian accusation. Great job, Gwen, my brain offered. A stellar effort, Gwen. A nazi accuses you of lesbianism and then you go and admit to kissing a black. That's not going to have any repercussions, is it now?

"Just stay away from me!" I bit out, ducking underneath another attempt to hem me in against a locker, "I'm not interested in snogging with you!"

"What!" Cassie stuttered, her hands dropping a fraction, "I'm not, I wasn't, you little-"

I darted down the hallway, away from the nazi, still holding all my books, managing to pull off a perfect slide under the outstretched arm of one of Cassie's Nazi goons.

"What's going on here?" A rough female voice spoke out. It also had the effect of causing me to glance to the side, where I saw a black female, dressed in jeans and a grey shirt. Honestly, her getup reminded me off Lara Croft from Tomb Raider. The new one, not the scantily clad originals.

"Hess," Cassie growled, "None of your business."

"The whole school is my business," the black girl responded, her fingers grasping and un-grasping as if she was clutching at a phantom object. Cassie snorted and made to say something but seemed to notice the suddenly larger group of spectators. A vapid looking redhead behind Hess, the obnoxiously dressed diminutive blonde from earlier and a whole gaggle of entourage behind Hess and the redhead.

"Whatever," Cassie replied, glancing to the side and realizing all her goons had dissipated back into the busy hallway crowd, "The bell is about to ring anyway, you can have the lesbo."

I wasn't a lesbian! Reminded of the bell, however, I took the opportunity to skitter away, hopefully, unseen down the hall. Unfortunately, this took me right past Hess, she grabbed at my arm, and I wasn't exactly able to check my stride enough.

Hess was forced to take a step to rebalance herself, she gave me a quick once over, visibly surprised before schooling her features, and adding a mostly half-hearted, "watch yourself."

She released my arm a second later as the redhead began berating the short blonde for losing a "Taylor" and Hess's attention snapped away from me back to her posse.

My locker was riddled with gang insignias. I ignored the ringing bell, there was nothing I could do about it now. I spotted the red and black E and double eights of the Empire 88, a red and green ABB, lastly a stylized, and a bad effort, at a 3-d 'M'. Partially obscured by the others was purple and yellow, 'TTH'. I had no idea what that last one stood for but based on the context it was another gang. I eased open the locker, quickly spinning in the combination. I had plenty of experience in this matter due to my exploits as a web-slinger of justice.

I threw all m books into my locker, pausing just a moment to keep the _History of Capes_ before I realized. Wait, I didn't have any notebooks. Well, I guess it was a good thing I was only planning on attending for a day.

Besides that, it was my first day at this new school and I was late for my first class. _Well, who needed an education?_


End file.
